I Did It Because I Liked It

Sebastian was beside himself.

He never thought he’d have to raise a club against his own girlfriend, but here he was.

Blood dripping on the ground. Panting like a dog.

He bashed her head in until she was unconscious, for gods' sake! She didn’t even try to defend herself.

Korrilea just kept going. And going. 

He laid her head softly on grass. Vowed to himself that he would come back. 

He walked away from the creek where his injured friend lay. Alive, thankfully. But barely. Seb was in no condition to be saving anyone himself. He was no more equipped to deal in medicine than he was to engage in combat.

The scene was grim on lakeside proper. Demonkin, dead or alive, strewn across the hard stone floors.

And the stench. He spotted more than a few people crying over a body. He had to assume the worst.

Sebastian thought that demon royalty which ruled them had special blood or something to counteract the effects of the statue, but even the Count fell.

It wasn’t long until he spotted movement coming in from the forest.

People in robes, dressed for ceremony, walking down the green hill that separated the forest from the waters.

If it wasn’t obvious enough who did it before, it sure was now.

The Obsidian Tide.

His fingers gripped around the club.

The one in front, clad in traditional Highcliff robes, soon separated.

When he saw a few people get up to perhaps start a fight, he soon found out how that wasn’t wise.

The moment one of the Tide pulled a sword from a hilt to decapitate a man—

He knew they were long past looking after Highcliff’s best interests.

The one in green and brown spoke. Necklaces and Highcliff décor on his robes dangling.

“THOSE NATIVE TO THIS LAND,” he started. “NO FURTHER HARM WILL COME TO YOU.”

Sebastian growled.

“WITNESS THE SCENES AROUND US. THESE CREATURES ARE NO DIFFERENT TO THE ONES WE ALL FEAR. THE ONES THAT JUJILBARKA PROTECTS US FROM!”

The Dark…

The Dark was apt, considering most couldn’t gleam a consistent description of them across all historical texts.

All he knew was that they came from the soil and rose up to the surface to wipe all life and pull them back into the ground. Jujilbarka was said to smite the Dark every Bi-Millennial Invasion.

But he couldn’t imagine any god would’ve approved of this. There was a difference between demon and the Dark, that’s for sure, one that the figure refused to acknowledge.

Sebastian stepped forward.

He didn’t care if his knees were still trembling, if his arms ached, if his head was swimming with regret.

He had to say something.

“I got demon friends,” he said, not loudly, but firm.

Some of the villagers turned. Some of the robed figures didn’t.

“I fought side-by-side with them when I was a merc. Ate with them. Bled with them. And I know arseholes from the High Lord lands got into my relationship more than once. Said I was of impure blood, made threats to the rest of my family here and there. But the monsters here are not the monsters there. And they are the furthest thing from the Dark.”

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd.

The man in green and brown tilted his head.

But before he could say anything—

A voice rang out from the rear of the procession.

Daniel.

"I know we never gave them the chance." Daniel stepped between the stone ruins, arms open like he was welcoming rain. “To plead for themselves. To say goodbye. But for the greater moral victory, this was all too necessary.” His voice cracked. “So we speak for them. I speak for them.”

He looked up. The sky didn’t answer.

Yet still, he called.

“Jujilbarka. Return to us. If there is rot in me, rip it free. If there is weakness in me, cast it to flame. Judge me.”

His arms trembled, fingers splayed wide.

“I have given you my body. My time. My people. Let it be enough.”

He meant every word.

Then, from the far end of the clearing—

\\

A voice.

Familiarly gravel.

“Daniel! Stop this!”

All heads turned.

Otto stepped into view, cloak singed at the hem.

“You finally found the balls you dropped on the ground to come here?”

Otto’s teeth flashed. “Yeah.”

Daniel sneered.

“It took one conversation,” he muttered. “It took losing your daughter. And you broke years of effort. You are hypocrite incarnate.” His face twisted—not in rage, but in bitter understanding. “And for what?”

Otto pointed, straight at Daniel.

“You are doing too much, too fast.”

“No thanks to your daughter, traitor. The people need to know who the true enemy is. If I have to martyr myself to prove it, then so be it. But the demonkin cannot be allowed to feel comfortable anywhere near us.”

“You think I don’t know?!”

“Then why stop me?” Daniel motioned. “After all that talk of doing what’s necessary, you falter when it really matters.”

“Out of some need for redemption? Out of some need for control of my life?” Otto laughed, a bitter thing. “Maybe. I was a soldier for Concordant, boy. They spat me out like coddle. The things I saw…” 

He trailed off. “So I settled here. Woo’d a local girl who so happened to take a liking to someone foreign and mysterious. Only to subject herself to years of abuse at my hands, because she was just so meek, weak. Only to twist a culture I sought refuge in into my own twisted understanding. Do I regret it? The answer’s obvious. But it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s dead now. And whatever she gave me, I wasted.

“I realized far too late that I can’t be redeemed. That I’m already this way by nature. I’m the consequence of choices I made a long time ago, and I never clawed my way out.

“So I end my life as I began it—violence.

“And if that means killing you, you arrogant sack of shit, then so be it.”

“You’ll find that may be harder to achieve than you think.”

Otto smiled. “Can’t blame a lad for trying.”

He didn’t wait.

Otto lunged forward, blade out, the movement ragged but fast—desperate. Daniel staggered back just in time, parrying with a grunt. Steel met steel, sparks flying as they clashed across the scorched stone.

“You’ve gone soft!” Daniel hissed.

Otto didn’t reply. Just pressed harder, swinging wide, forcing him toward the edge.

Daniel countered with a low sweep—caught Otto’s ankle. He fell hard, rolling, but came up swinging again.

It was messy. Brutal. Not elegant, not trained. Two men throwing everything they had left at each other, teeth bared, eyes wild.

Eventually… Otto slowed.

His knees buckled, breath coming in wet gasps. Sword arm trembling. The blood loss caught up. His muscles locked. Daniel stood above him, untouched.

“No one will ever miss you.”

Otto smiled faintly. “Yeah. I know. I know.”

His fingers slipped into his coat.

Click.

“But I will be the last thing on your mind.”

Daniel’s eyes widened.

The grenade went off.

Sebastian felt his legs give from gravity as he was blown out of the way.